


It Had To Be You

by slash4femme



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Light D/s undertones, M/M, Sex Toys, male chastity, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-19
Updated: 2013-05-19
Packaged: 2017-12-12 07:59:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/809190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash4femme/pseuds/slash4femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>France pushes for England to open up more about his sexual desires but when he does it leads them in directions neither of them could have foreseen</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Had To Be You

I.  
Kiku had told Francis once, when they were both far from sober, that Arthur could seriously talk about his own sexual needs and desires without being forced. Evidently he just couldn’t do that with Francis. Kiku had described Arthur almost shyly touching himself to show his new lover what pleased him. The image of Arthur talking softly about his own desires, was so far from anything Francis had ever known with the other nation that he had almost laughed. Almost. Arthur would talk about what he liked and what he wanted and what he didn’t like but only when Francis forced him to. Those times were always awkward and Francis had to coax the words out and often was left feeling that England hadn’t been completely truthful with him. He wasn’t sure why it came harder with him then with anyone else. Did Arthur see his own desires as weakness that Francis might take advantage of, was Francis supposed to instinctively know what Arthur wanted without being told? It was frustrating and doubly so now that they were together, monogamous and committed. Francis takes pride in being an attentive and giving lover but it’s hard when Arthur refuses to communicate with him.

Francis watches the other nation eat from across the table. Arthur loves Brussels sprouts for reasons Francis truly doesn’t understand. He himself despises them especially the way Arthur likes them best with is boiled within an inch of their existence. They’ve compromised tonight by having them with a light citrus glaze, the recipe for which Francis had gotten from Romano and Arthur had eaten three helpings already. Arthur shoves down another forkful before noticing that Francis is watching him and blushes slightly.

“They’re good.”

Francis smiles slightly, “I’m glad you like them. I’ll remember to make the recipe again.” He glances at his empty wine glass but doesn’t refill it. Instead he starts clearing the dishes into the kitchen. Arthur does the washing up and Francis goes into the study to finish writing a report that needs to be done by the next morning.

Arthur comes into the study some time later, although Francis doesn’t look up from his computer. Arthur pushes the loose braid Francis has tied his hair back in, from the other nation’s neck and kisses him there on the nape. Francis sighs and lets his eyes flutter shut briefly before going back to his writing.

“Wait twenty minutes Angleterre, I need to finish this.”

Arthur hums softly at that before going right back to kissing Francis’ neck and nibbling at the soft skin around his collar. Arthur’s hands slide done Francis’ chest rub small circles against chest and then stomach. Arthur licks his ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, biting it gently. Francis gasps and shifts a little in his seat, his eyes no longer able to focus on the computer screen in front of him.

“Francis.” Arthur’s voice is soft and he turns the other nation around to kiss him fully on the lips. Francis’ hands come up to tangle in Arthur’s short, soft hair. They kiss all teeth and tongues for a few moments while Arthur’s hand roam and rub at as much of Francis’ body as they can. Finally when they both need to breath Arthur pulls away.

“I have a conference call.” He says softly a little smile tugging at his lips, “and you should finish that report.”

“What?” Francis gapes at him, “you . . . you can’t be serious.”

Arthur steps out of his reach still smirking “actually I am.” He heads for the door while France tries to decide if it’s worth the possible damage to his slacks if he tried to full-body tackle the other nation. At the door Arthur pauses to give him one last look, “we can finish this later if you want.” He ducks out of the room in time to miss the French-to-Chinese dictionary Francis throws at his head.

II.

Francis knows better then to interrupt Arthur’s conference call but he does jump on him the moment Arthur walks through the door to their bedroom. He kisses him immediately tangling their legs together wrapping his arms around Arthur's body. Arthur’s fingers tangle in long blond hair and he makes little hungry noises into the kiss and Francis rocks their hips together. Francis bites at Arthur’s throat and manages to shove Arthur’s shirt up over his chest so he can grope across Arthur’s stomach and pull at Arthur’s small nipples. Arthur’s hands go to Francis’ slacks and unbutton them and yank until they fall around the other nation’s knees and Francis’ boxers follows and Arthur’s hand wraps around Francis’ cock and it’s Arthur who whimpers. Arthur stokes up and down Francis’ shaft, fingers gently playing with Francis’ foreskin until Francis hisses and bucks his hips. Arthur’s fingers run lightly over the head of Francis’ cock, fingertips prodding ever so slightly at the slit before rubbing down the shaft again. Arthur moves his hips restlessly, eyes closed, making little breathy noises until Francis kisses him, thrusting his tongue deep into the other nation’s mouth. Francis’ own fingers undo Arthur’s slack and push them out of the way just enough to pull Arthur’s cock free. Arthur uses both hands to wrap around both of their cocks pushing and rubbing them together and Francis hisses and pants into the curve of Arthur’s throat. He pulls back enough to see Arthur, eye glazed over with lust watching his own hands work over their erections, watching his own slender cock pressed against Francis’ slightly bigger one. Francis makes a strangled noise of pleasure and comes with Arthur following right behind.

They gasp lying sprawled on top of each other until Arthur finally pushes Francis to the side and strips off his soiled clothes. Francis goes to the bathroom and comes back with a washcloth and strips out of his clothes too.

“We need to talk.” Francis says finally when they are clean and lying curled against each other in bed. Arthur shifts a little in his arms burying his face into Francis’ chest.

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“Well,” Francis strokes the other nations hair “yes, but I am warning you Arthur it is about us and our relationship and your inability to talk about what you want.”

Arthur goes still in his arms, “I talk, I talk about what I want all the time.”

“No you don’t.” Francis corrects him.

Against his chest Arthur shrugs, “what is there to say, you give me everything I want.”

Francis ignores the happy warmth that goes through him at that and makes a soft unbelieving noise instead, “really Arthur, you expect me to believe that? Our sex life, our relationship is tame compared to most humans’ and we are nations after all.” _And you are you and I have talked with Kiku and Antonio about this._

Arthur huffs against his chest and Francis sighs and squeezes his eyes shut before rubbing small circles across Arthur’s back “I only want to please you, mon amour.” He says gently.

He had sworn to himself once several centuries ago that he would never become seriously involved with anyone too sexually repressed to admit to what they really wanted. That had been before Arthur had admitted to being love with him, to wanting to settle down with him though. Francis rubs the bridge of his nose, according to Kiku, Antonio and Ivan there is nothing sexually repressed about Arthur. Evidently it’s just Francis.

“Write it down.” Arthur looks up at him startled and Francis sighs, “If you don’t want to talk about it, than write it out. I know you write well. Describe something we haven’t done yet that you would most like to do as if it were a story. It can be something sexual, or something romantic. Something that would make our relationship better for you.”

He kisses Arthur on the forehead and Arthur sighs, “this is important to you isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Francis acknowledges and doesn’t miss the way Arthur blushes and looks away unhappily.

“Alright then.”

 

III.

Francis had been planning on making Arthur read whatever the other nation came up with aloud. Arthur beat him to the punch though when Francis comes into the room, off of the living room that he’d set up as an office, one morning coffee in hand, to find a neatly stacked pile of paper sitting on his desk. Arthur had typed it and even numbered the pages Francis sees with a smile as he sits and picks up the manuscript. He wants to read what Arthur’s written for him right away but regretfully sets it aside. He has actual work to do this morning.

When noon rolls around Francis makes himself a light lunch and curls up on the couch with Arthur’s papers. He reads slowly savoring it. Arthur is a good writer, he knows how to set the scene and draw the reader in and describe things in way that make them stand out vividly from the page without being florid. Even so Francis keeps getting distracted by the image of Arthur sitting in his London flat, in one of his big leather armchairs, laptop perched on his knees actually writing this. That image of Arthur plus the words themselves make a heady arousing mixture. Francis finishes the last page and sets the little stack aside. It hadn’t been what he’d expected, not at all. On the other hand he wasn’t exactly unmoved by what Arthur had described. Francis takes several long breaths and then sets his arousal aside and actually thinks about it.

The power dynamic of their sexual encounters had been fraught throughout most of their history together, as it often was between nations. These days though, now that they have settled down into a somewhat stable life together, Francis mostly took the upper hand when some kind of power play was involved. He preferred this because it turned him on and satisfied him but also because he ran less of a risk of reminding himself of memories he’d sooner forget. Sexual favors were often demanded of a loosing party in war and Francis had been on the loosing side far too often. Arthur had never said nor shown any signs of not liking this arrangement. In fact he was always quite eager.

Yet the one thing that Arthur most wanted to try with him was something that demanded that Francis give over quite a bit of control to Arthur. That was confusing and a little troubling because it made Francis rethink their relationship and second-guess assumptions he’d been happily making for decades now.

Arthur had described in careful detail Francis wearing a male chesty device long-term; not being allowed to come or even become fully erect without Arthur’s express permission. From the way Arthur described it he was fully planning to make Francis wait a good long time for that permission. It scared Francis a little and he seriously contemplates telling Arthur no. And yet . . . Francis shifts a little on the couch, this is something undeniably appealing to him about the trust involved the sheer act of letting Arthur do this to him. Francis sighs as he tries to sort through the conflicting emotions and reactions to what Arthur had written him.

He needs to finish up his actual work, he needs to take a long hot bath and sleep on this. Most of all he needs to talk to Arthur. It doesn’t help that Arthur’s going to be in London for the next couple days, and Francis thinks this is just like him to drop this revelation and then run. Trust Arthur to stand firm on the battlefield and yet avoid tricky relationship citations like they were plague-carrying corpses.

Francis glares in the general direction of the Channel and then goes back to the paperwork waiting in his office. Of course he doesn’t really concentrate on it, not with flashes of images and phrases that Arthur had written running nonstop through his head. Francis rubs his forehead and takes off his reading glasses so he can rub his eyes too. He’s over thinking this and he knows it, he needs to stop.

That evening before Francis goes to bed, while he’s in the process of brushing his teeth actually, several things strike him all at once. He stands there and stares at himself in the mirror for several long moments. They are in and of themselves very simple things that have nothing to do really with sex he’d just never put them together like that before. He spits out toothpaste and wipes his mouth as he heads for the bedroom and his laptop. He sits on the bed and sends off a quick email to Arthur and then sighs again. He hopes Arthur knows what he’s getting himself into. Still this is them and they had both asked for it after all.

 

IV.

The sun shines through the kitchen window and Arthur fidgets with his cup and rubs at a burnt mark on the top of his kitchen table. In about twenty minutes Francis would be joining him and then they would “talk.” Arthur really doesn’t want to have this talk. It’s not because he’s ashamed or doesn’t want what he described in that little story he wrote for Francis, because he does want that. The mental image it conjures up is enough to take his breath away, even here sitting at his little kitchen table, particularly here. It’s just that what he feels towards Francis is new and complicated and Arthur is good at uncomplicated sex and not at all good at . . . this.

It’s easier to just sit back and let Francis decide what happens in bed and it’s not like Arthur has ever felt like their sex life is lacking. Quite the opposite really, Francis just seems to know when Arthur wants to be dominated, when he just needs to be held and when what he needs is a combination of the two. It is more then that though Arthur takes a long sip of tea and wills his hands not to shake. Arthur doesn’t want to over step a line. When this had begun, when they had decided to have a proper relationship together, Arthur had known Francis was coming to it with baggage. Hell Arthur had his own baggage after all, yet more of Francis’ then Arthur’s was sexual and Arthur wanted to respect that. He wanted to let Francis do what Francis needed to do. Yes all right, he would admit he should have been clearer about that, should have communicated more, he’s just . . .

Arthur rubs the back of his neck with one hand. Telling Francis he was concerned would be admitting to the other nation that this relationship was different, that it meant more to him, that Arthur was in love. Arthur had been hoping, and perhaps stupidly, that he’d be allowed work up to that particular revelation, maybe over the next century or so.

The front door opens and Arthur goes into the hall to find Francis hanging up his coat and placing an umbrella in the stand, an overnight bag by his feet.

“How was the trip?”

“Oh, tiring, boring.” Francis gives him a small smile and Arthur ducks his head.

“Come into the kitchen, I’ll make you some tea.”

Francis follows the other nation and sits on the unoccupied side of the kitchen table. Arthur moves around making more tea and getting out some chocolate digestives even though he knows Francis can’t stand them. However they’re the only food he has in the flat at the moment. He sets the cup in front of the Francis and the biscuits on the table, then sits and picks up his now only slightly warm cup of tea. Francis smiles faintly again and picks up his cup taking a sip and Arthur distracts himself staring at Francis’ thin wrists. They look pale and fragile against the dark expensive cloth of the other nation’s shirt. Suddenly Arthur wants to run his thumb against the inside of one of those wrists and feel Francis pulse under his fingers.

“I’m not planning on eating you alive, you know.” Francis says and Arthur tares his eyes away from Francis’ wrists and hands, setting his cup back down on the saucer with a clatter.

“What?”

“You keep acting like you expect me to sprout fangs and tare you throat out.” Francis takes another sip of tea. “Trust me, if I had known this would all be so upsetting for you I would have never suggested we deviate from our stander routines in anyway.”

Arthur frowns across the table and watches Francis watch him while trying to appear not to. He wishes he could read the other nation as well as Francis seems to be able to read him.

“I don’t regret it.” Arthur rubs one hand across his forehead and frantically searches for the words he needs to make Francis understand this. “It should have happened a long time ago in fact. You being, well, you I know the same old things aren’t going to hold your interest forever and . . .”

“Non” Francis looks up sharply “Arthur that’s not-”

“But I was afraid.” Arthur continues because with this if he stops he won’t be able to start again he’s sure. “I know you’ve been through a lot and so I though, best to let you make the decisions that way no one gets hurt and I’ve love it.” His arms are crossed so tightly at this point he’s started to loose feeling in his fingers and his elbows are cramping up. “I mean you are bloody good at what you do” perfect really, but he’d never say that, “but I kept having these images, well daydreams really, so when you asked the other night what I’d like to try, it was the first thing that sprang to mind.”

Francis’ cup makes a soft clink as he sets it back in its saucer. “I’m not upset.” Francis’ voice certainly doesn’t sound upset if anything he sounds far calmer then Arthur feels at the moment. The other nation forces his arms apart, forces himself to relax one muscle group at a time. Francis smiles gently at him, “I was a little taken a back at first, but I can’t say that I don’t find that idea appealing.”

Just like that about half of the tension that’s been twisting Arthur’s spine into knots evaporates. Francis stands and moves around the table taking one of Arthur’s clenched hands in his. “Why don’t we discuss this someplace more comfortable, perhaps in the living room?”

He tugs gently on his captured hand Arthur lets himself be pulled up, out of the chair and into the next room. Francis folds himself gracefully onto the settee then tugs at Arthur’s hand again until Arthur settles besides him. There is only about second of time before Francis is reaching out for him, and wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders. The other hand settles on Arthur’s leg just above the knee rubbing little circles against the corduroy of his trousers.

Francis kisses his ear, “relax,” he says softly in that tone of voice that’s been making Arthur’s insides turn to molten gold since the sixteenth century. “We are going to have a talk, and you are going to explain in more detail about this desire of yours” Francis practically purrs the words and Arthur begins to feel a little warm around the collar. “Then we are going to have a little argument about where to call out for food, which I will let you win, being a kind and enlightened individual. Then perhaps we will talk some more.” The wayward hand inches about a centimeter higher on Arthur’s leg, “then we will go to bed.” Francis kisses the other nation’s cheek. “I have had a long day after all.”

Arthur shifts next to Francis and coughs a little uncomfortably, “well alright then.”

Minutes tick by as they both sit in silence and finally Francis sighs and pulls Arthur a little closer.

“In that delightful story you wrote about me wearing a cage that kept me from coming or even becoming erect.” Francis kisses the top of the other nations ear again. Arthur closes his eyes seeing the image that instantly appears in his mind; Francis turned on and wanting but unable to become fully hard. He shivers and feels Francis’ fingers play with hem of his jumper. “You wrote about me wearing it for days,” Francis says softly voice gone deep, “at my office, and at meetings.” He bites lightly at Arthur’s neck, “now tell me.” Francis’ voice is still low, still sensual but there’s a calculating edge to it now. “Do you want to dominate me Arthur? Do you want watch me suffer, unable to come until you give me that pleasure? Or do you want to earn it, earn the right see me hard for you, be able to touch and suck me cock, hmm?”

Arthur clutches at his scattered wits and licks very, very dry lips. “A little of both I think.” He takes a deep breath, he can do this, “want to watch you at world meetings and know what your wearing underneath your clothes, know it’s because of me, I want to . . .” he trails off and then rallies himself again, “I want to want you so badly, want to come again and again not be allowed to have you inside me, want you to want to be inside me so badly and not be allowed.” He trails off feeling like he’s just run a marathon and notes that Francis’ hands have stopped moving and petting across his arms and body. Arthur looks up to see Francis’ eyes dark with lust watching him thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Francis finally says, “yes I think I would like that too.”

 

V.

“Well now.” Francis says softly and Arthur’s eyes flick up to meet his “it’s been a long time since you’ve bought me jewelry.”

Arthur, bless his soul, actually blushes and ducks his head and Francis reaches into the box on Arthur’s coffee table and picks up the metal object. It was metal cock ring attached to a cage made out of spiraling metal wire that would go over the shaft with a cap at the top and a lock at the base. Francis coos a little and holds it up examining it as if it were one of the diamonds he used receive from hopeful nations seeks treaties and alliances.

He’s spent two weeks doing research on long-term chastity play, as had Arthur, and after Francis had plied Arthur with wine, they’d discussed the said research at length. They’d chosen this particular cage together and based their decision on reviews of the cage, and that fact that this was France they where talking about. While still taking into account this was a first time for both of them. They’d also had sex, a lot of sex.

Francis looks up to see Arthur blushing, hands clenched tightly in his lap, and looking more then a little turned on.

“Come here.” Francis puts down the cage and holds out his hands Arthur moves the short distance between them. Francis kisses him hungry, shoves his tongue into Arthur’s mouth and bites at the other nation’s lower lip as he pulls way. “It’s a very nice present Arthur.” Francis tells him, nipping at the other nation’s lower lip again, “I like it very much.”

Arthur sighs a little and kisses Francis’ back fingers twisting in Francis’ hair, tongue gently pressing against the other nation’s lips. Francis’ mouth opens enough to let Arthur in and his hands around the other nation’s waist tighten.

“Do you want to go upstairs and get ready?” Arthur asks almost tentatively and Francis nods and nuzzles at his ear.

They go to the upstairs bath and Francis strips off his shirt, shoes and then trousers while Arthur searches around and finally come back with an electric razor. He attaches the plastic attachment to trim instead of shave, and Francis kicks off the silk boxers he’s wearing. Even after all these centuries it never fails to arouse Francis when Arthur gets down on his knees in front of him, looks up through long blond lashes, and just waits. Francis strokes the other nation’s hair as Arthur turns on the razor and Francis holds very still as Arthur trims the blond hair around his cock.

After Arthur’s finished Francis turns on the shower and steps in. The running water doesn’t quite cover up the soft sounds of Arthur tidying up, then the door shutting and Francis closes his eyes. Arthur’s hands on his cock as he used the electric razor has made him half-hard and Francis tries not to think about what’s coming as he washes himself carefully. He turns off the water and puts on one of Arthur’s bathrobes before padding down the hall to the bedroom. Arthur is sitting quietly on the bed with the box containing the cage next to him. What they are about to do slams into Francis like a wave of heat and he goes from almost completely soft to almost completely hard.

“Arthur.” He says soft when he’s a few steps away from the other nation, “I believe we have a problem.”

Arthur arches one large, expressive brow in question and Francis smirks and opens the bathrobe. “It seems you have made me hard.” He murmurs and watches Arthur licks his lips, “come here.”

It takes Arthur no time at all the close the few steps between them and drop to his knees and his hands go to Francis’ hips as his lips open very slightly and press against the tip of Francis’ erection. Francis smiles down at him. “That’s it,” he tall the other nation softly, “take it all in.”

Arthur’s eyes lashes drop a little as his lips wrap around Francis’ length and his throat works as he struggles to accommodate all of Francis. A few second tick by as Arthur sucks and Francis gently stroking the side of his face, then Francis takes a breath and thrust his hips forward sharply. Arthur’s eyebrows draw together but his throat relaxes enough to keep him from choking. Francis fucks his mouth with a few deep, hard strokes before coming. Only then does Arthur gage a little before swallowing and Francis runs one thumb across Arthur’s slick lips, “bring my lovely gift here.”

Arthur brings the box over to wear Francis is standing then gently strokes body wash on to the other nation’s now flaccid penis, before slipping the first ring on. Francis closes his eyes as Arthur pushes his balls through the ring, then opens them again to watch the other nations slip the cage up and onto his shaft. Arthur’s hand are shaking so badly it takes him two tries to get the pin in to hold the two parts together. Finally Francis himself reaches down and fits the small rubber-coated pad lock into place, clicking it shut with a little snap. Neither nation speaks for a long minute and Arthur licks his lips eyes wide and dark and Francis fight against a wave of desire that can now go nowhere. He takes the key hanging on a slim silver chain and gently drops it over Arthur’s head before tugging the other nation up into a kiss.

“Beautiful” Arthur manages against Francis’ lips his voice raw and strained and Francis pulls away.

“I am going to go wash off this soap.” He strokes his fingers against Arthur’s cheek before heading back to the bathroom.

Standing under very cold spray Francis closes his eyes. It doesn’t help though he still sees the look on Arthur’s face, wide-eyed and needy as he kneels on the floor in front of Francis eyes trained on Francis’ caged cock. Francis grits his teeth and wonders if he’s going to able to deal with this.

 

VI.

World meetings are long and tedious enough, Francis decides, without adding on a burning desire to go back to his hotel room and ravish Arthur. Add that and they become nearly unbearable. Francis shifts ever so slightly in his seat. The cock cage does its job well, he’s learned, keeping him not only from coming but also from getting fully hard. Plus the heavy cock ring also pulls at his balls in a way Francis finds more arousing then painful which just makes everything that much more . . . interesting.

His eyes slide to Arthur, who seems to be actually paying attention to whatever it is Alfred is saying at the moment and Francis licks his lips and shifts a little again. As much as Francis finds the chastity device currently around his cock arousing Arthur finds it doubly so. In fact the whole thing seems to have flips some kind of switch in the other nation. All the sexual tentativeness that used to so irritate and confuse Francis as almost completely disappeared leaving Arthur incredibly needy and wonton almost constantly. Arthur had let Francis fuck him with three different sizes of dildos last night. Then Arthur had begged Francis, on hands and knees, to let him suck Francis through the cage, a pleasure Francis had denied him.

Francis clenches his teeth to keep from hisses as his member tries to stiffen at the memory and fails. With a quiet murmur to the nation on his right he excuses himself and makes his way to the nearest toilet. Once there he leans against the sink and concentrates on everything he finds repulsive and non-arousing. At this very moment Arthur is sitting in a room full of the worlds greatest powers wearing a plug up that sweet ass of his. Francis grits his teeth again and thinks about unsafe sex, immigration issues, the corruption of the French language and Arthur’s homemade fruitcake. Finally when he feels like he’s not going to get aroused again any time soon Francis splashes water on his face and head back to the conference room.

Arthur has his hands on Francis belt the moment they walk into their hotel room while Francis kick the door shut, pushes Arthur against the nearest wall and kisses him. He pulls Arthur’s hands away from his trousers and holds them against the wall as well as they kiss exploring each other’s mouth with tongues and teeth.

After a moment Arthur pulls away from the kiss with a small whimper. “I want to see it. Take your trousers off, bloody frog!”

Francis’ mouth curves into a smile, “begging for my cock again.” He kisses along the side of Arthur’s neck, “so needy. While I, unlike you, have all the time in the world.”

He bites Arthur hard on the junction of neck and shoulders, before pulling away and undoing his own belt but not the button of the slacks underneath.

“Take off your clothes.” Francis doesn’t know if it’s funny or sweet how fast Arthur struggles to obey, pulling at his suit until his down to underwear and socks. “Lean over the bed.” Francis murmurs and Arthur frowns at him but does that too. For a long moment Francis stands composing himself and studying the rather tantalizing view. Crossing the room swiftly Francis pulls down Arthur’s boxers and studies his now naked backside with a critical eye while Arthur shivers a little under him.

“Are you just going to look or are you actually planning on doing something?” Arthur asks finally, but Francis can hear the breathlessness behind the words. He pushes on the flared bottom of the slender plug Arthur’s been wearing all day and then pulls it out a little and pushes it back in. Arthur gasps and then groans letting his cheek rest on the bed. Francis can remember how he used to have to coax each and every noise out of the other nation but now Arthur comes apart so freely. It makes Francis want to get hard and he undoes his slacks, pulls down the zipper and then steps out of them. He’s not wearing anything underneath and immediately Arthur is twisting, craning his neck around to see. Francis’ cock fills the little metal cage, pushes against the circles of hard metal in a way is painful, but not too painful for Francis to handle. Arthur groans, his hips rock back, eyelids trooping as he stares at Francis’ groin.

“Do you want to fuck me Arthur?” Francis’ hand slide underneath the other nation’s body and squeezes his unbound and undeniably hard length. “Do you want fuck me and come like a little slut.”

The noise Arthur makes isn’t even vaguely coherent and Francis briefly wonders if he will survive Arthur fucking him with the cage still on. Watching Arthur come apart in front of him is good though, and being fucked is definitely good even if he doesn’t get to ejaculate at the end. Francis licks a slow trail up Arthur’s back from tailbone to neck. He pulls the plug out until the tip just rests against Arthur’s well-stretched hole before pushing it back in all the way. Arthur keens and swears at him, which only makes Francis laugh as he reaches over to his own suitcase and rummages around until he finds one of the larger plugs he’d brought, a harness and the lube. The other nation watches him through narrowed eyes as Francis covers the plug in lube and then pulls the one Arthur’s already wearing free dropping it on the floor.

“Who is in the room next to us?” He asks casually lining the plug up with Arthur’s entrance and Arthur takes a deep breath.

“Alfred and Matthew, I think.”

“Oh dear.” Francis rubs one hand across his back and pushes the plug in slowly but without stopping watching Arthur’s body spread and open for it. “Between last night and this evening we made have traumatized them I’m afraid.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Arthur pants into the bed spread as Francis buckles the harness around his waist to keep the plug in place.

“You are hardly quiet.” Francis point out.

“You wouldn’t be exactly silence either, if I was fucking you with a dildo twice as big as your cock.”

Francis thinks that’s rather an exaggeration and Arthur had taken the dildo quite beautifully at that. He crawls onto the bed and reaches a hand out to Arthur. Arthur crawls after him, and then leans down to kiss Francis’ softly on the lips. Francis spreads his legs and guides Arthur’s lube slicked fingers to his own entrance. Francis stroke Arthur’s own erection while Arthur works first one and then two fingers into Francis’ body.

“You look so beautiful.” Arthur’s voice is nowhere close to steady. “Legs spread, body open, cock bound like that.” He rocks into Francis’ hand and Francis gives him a good hard squeeze causing Arthur to groan.

“Inside me now.” Francis says firmly and Arthur pulls his fingers away “oh and Arthur,” Arthur looks back at him the act of picking up the lube and Francis reaches over to bedside table, “condom.” He waves it at Arthur and watches Arthur’s jaw clench briefly before rolling it on, and lining himself up.

It’s sweet agony having Arthur push into him like that. His own length strains against the hard metal that presses against its tip. The ache of the cage compliments the stretching-ache of Arthur filling him, Francis thinks hazily, grasping so hard onto Arthur’s shoulders. Arthur keens through clenched teeth eyes closed against what Francis imagines in the duel sensation of filling and being filled.

“Listen to you.” Francis’ voice is soft, a little strained and his hands loosen their death-grip on Arthur’s shoulders, “such a little whore.”

Arthur’s hips snaps forward and then pull back Francis lets himself get lost in the rhythm of it. It’s good, so good, the stretch and fullness and sweet pressure on his prostate. It makes him shiver and sweat, and kiss any of Arthur’s skin he can reach. Arthur’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly open as he moves. Francis draws his mind away from the unbearable pressure around his cock and instead concentrates on Arthur’s pleasure.

Above him Arthur’s body spasms and Francis feels jealousy settle hot in his own belly until he shakes it away. With a little sigh Arthur pulls out, rolling over to lie on the bed and Francis stroke Arthur’s hair and waits for his own member to stop trying its best to get fully hard. Francis reaches down and undoes the straps of the harness pulling the plug free and Arthur sighs.

“I want to suck and lick you love, I want you to fuck me so badly.” His voice is low and the words come haltingly but clear, “No matter how many times I come it’s never enough because you haven’t come yet.”

Francis freezes everything in his mind going to white-hot noise in an instant and he can’t think. He licks his lips and tries to pull himself together, “you want to suck me Arthur?” His hand goes to the back of the other nation’s neck, “just like you begged me for last night?” he gently rubs at Arthur’s nape and then pulls him forward, “then go ahead.”

Arthur bends forward eagerly, taking the metal incased tip into his mouth, running his tongue along the exposed skin. Francis pants open mouthed, and his cock struggles, trying become hard.

“So red, and painful.” Arthur whispers and Francis grits his teeth, “so, so beautiful, love.”

When he glances down Francis can see Arthur’s own cock is struggling to become hard again too even though he’s just come and Francis highly doubts he’ll be able to get it up so soon. “My very own slut.” Francis tangles his fingers in Arthur’s hair, “always needy, always wanting. You just came and you’re trying to get hard again.” He reaches out across the bed for the plug, concentrates on how Arthur’s eyes track his movements instead of the feel of Arthur’s mouth, “How many times do you need to be fucked before you’re satisfied?” He moves his hand like he’s about the put the plug back into Arthur and Arthur’s hold body jerks. “Don’t worry Arthur.” Francis kisses the top of the other nation’s head. “I can fuck you as many time’s as I want with this toy, and when I’m tired of that I can pick another one.”

For a moment it seems like Arthur might start hyperventilating, and Francis smiles.

“Perhaps later. Now I have to take a shower.” He strokes Arthur’s hair one last time before sitting up and Arthur sits up as well. Francis’ can’t help pulling him close for a kiss, before heads the to the bathroom to take a very cold shower.

 

VII.  
Arthur lets himself into Francis’ Paris apartment and hangs up his coat grumbling a little to himself about French drivers as he goes.

“Arthur.”

The nation in question glances up to see Francis hovering in the doorway to the living room. He’s dressed in jeans and a long sleeve black shirt with a wide scooped neck that seems to be in danger of falling off of one elegant shoulder. His feet are bear, his blond hair pulled back in a loose braid and he’s wearing his reading glasses. Arthur moves across the short space to kiss him lightly on the lips.

“Did you have a nice trip?” Francis asks and Arthur frowns and sighs.

“Not especially.”

The other nation only smiles at him, “I hope you brought the key,” he tells him lightly turning away and heading back towards the kitchen, “We’ll need it tonight.”

Just like that Arthur’s uncomfortably hard inside his trousers. He swallows heavily and is forced to trot awkwardly after Francis, “When?”

“After dinner.” Francis’ tone is light and teasing. In that moment Arthur wants nothing more then to tackle him to the ground and wrestle the cage the other nations’ been wearing for weeks off of him and ride Francis’ cock until they both finally come. It’s been over almost two months now since Francis has even been able to get fully erect so Arthur figures he at least can make it through dinner.

Dinner is tense, or at least Arthur feels tense. Francis’ food is as good as always but Arthur barely notices, he eats fast and can’t help noticing that Francis eats faster then usual too. Through mutual, unspoken agreement they leave the dishes unwashed in the sink just this once.

Francis draws the curtains in the living room then sits on the couch legs spread wide and Arthur swallows hard and comes to kneel between Francis’ legs. The warm yellow light from the lamp glints off of the buckle of Francis’ belt as he undoes it and lifts his hips to work his trousers off. He’s wearing silk boxers tonight and Arthur can’t help but clench his hands into fists as Francis pulls them down too. Arthur’s hands shakes as they come up to touch Francis’ beautiful cock trapped behind the metal of the cage. He watches the soft skin becomes darker flushed with blood and push against the metal of the cage. Arthur doesn’t think he’s ever been turned on more by anything in his life. Although he suspects that Francis’ member finally freed from its confinement and pressing between his lips might turn him on even more.

He fumbles with the little key he hasn’t let out of his sight for almost two months. Francis makes a little noise in the back of his throat as Arthur finally gets the key in the lock and pulls the rubber-coated padlock out of the pin. Carefully, hands still shaking, he eases the cage off of Francis’ length and then eases the other nations’ rather tortured balls out of the metal ring. Francis sighs head lolling a little to the side as he’s finally freed. His hand goes to his trousers beside him on the couch and he pulls a foil packet out and hands it to Arthur. Arthur feels a small pang of disappointment in his gut. He knows Francis gets off on safe sex and using condoms whenever possible even if, as nations, they aren’t at risk in the same way as humans are. Arthur had been waiting to taste him though, wanting to feel Francis come down his throat again. Francis had let Arthur taste him that one last time before the cage had gone on and Arthur had been wanking to that memory almost every night since. Tonight is about Francis’ pleasure though so he takes the condom. One stroke up Francis’ length is all it takes to make him finally full hard. Francis groans and Arthur rolls the condom on.

“Lick.” Francis says voice strained and Arthur can’t move fast enough, can’t get Francis into his mouth soon enough. Even with the condom it’s heaven, a heaven Francis has denied him for close to two months. Arthur makes a small noise of pure pleasure and takes Francis as far down his throat as he can without gagging. Francis cries out, hand going to Arthur’s hair twisting the strands almost painfully. Arthur swallows once and Francis is gone. Arthur himself almost comes from the way Francis twitches and pulsates in his mouth. He pulls back just far enough to lick and suck until Francis goes soft.

“Arthur.” When Arthur looks up Francis bends forward and kisses him, “that was lovely.” Francis’ voice is still deep and breathless and he tugs on Arthur’s hand until the other nation joins him on the couch. They curl up together and Francis rests his head on Arthur’s shoulder.

“When I’ve rested, I plan on fucking you.” Francis tells him , causing Arthur to shiver at the words, and rub his still hard cock through his trousers, “Then we can see how you like being kept in a cage.” Francis bites his ear lightly and Arthur thinks he wouldn’t actually mind that at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the Hetalia kink meme 
> 
> Notes:
> 
> -I have a hard time with editing my own work so I realize this could have been better spelling/grammar wise.
> 
> -this is close to the cock cage Francis was wearing in this fic 
> 
> -I used maymay's tips on long-term male chastity play because I trust he knows what he's talking about when it comes to such things


End file.
